Blog Posts

Being Michael-angelo

1/24/2016

My name is Michael as most of you know; it’s a very common name, I once looked it up and it was either the number one boys name most of time or second or third for over forty years. I have often said we have our own secret society intent on taking over the world; we are still working on that in case you were wondering. I can remember from an early age being familiar with Michelangelo di Lodovico Buonarroti Simoni, or as most know him simply as the artist, Michelangelo. Art has always been a part of my life in some way; I took lessons at an early age and created some of my own. I love visiting museums and staring for long periods of time at the masterpieces of painting and sculpture, trying desperately to see each brush stroke and the subtle lines in the sculpted form that capture reality in canvas or stone. Because of this Michelangelo was, of course, one of my favorites as he is with so many.

As a youth I was more fascinated with him than many others probably were for the simple reason of the coincidence with our names; with Michael being so close, maybe a shorter, simpler version of Michelangelo. I fancied myself a young Michelangelo with my work, a fantasy for sure, but something that was a secret goal in my younger days. What is it with idolizing someone or being so enthralled with a persona that you seem to relate in some odd way? Connection is something everyone searches for and feels on so many different levels depending on their unique situation. There are names that we all recognize for different reasons: friends, acquaintances, the famous, and the historically significant. Michelangelo is easily recognizable by the vast majority of the world’s population, while Michael is common; the likelihood of someone recognizing me without my middle and last name is somewhat far-fetched. I really have no illusions that my name, as common as it is and with my simple life, will ever attain the near god-like status of Michelangelo; truthfully it’s not a realistic goal, simply because the possibility of that happening is far further than winning the lottery.

We all need hero’s, he was one of mine; for me he was the epitome of success or maybe more accurately the top of the measuring stick form which all others would be compared. Time is a standard, not just a schedule; it is the very standard on how things are judged, to stand the test of time someone or something is deemed great. Achilles will forever be known as the greatest warrior, Miguel de Cervantes will live on in literature world forever, and Michelangelo will be synonymous with art. Make no mistake I do not categorize myself in any way with these giants, they are my idols, my personal hero’s, and they are my goals; I will hold them up as my attainable desire though lofty as it is. As the expression goes, ‘Shoot for the stars, so if you fall you land on a cloud’, is something that we all should consider. The fantasy of imagining oneself as any of these people is a good goal at first, but not to be mistaken as reality; you must begin the work that will take your name and get it carved in stone.

My name is Michael W. Glover, not catchy, not mysterious or odd, just a simple name that tags me as not the person next to me. Don’t get me wrong I like my name; maybe if I want something more intriguing I will come up with a pen name. I have thought about it, but I guess I wanted everyone to know who I was with everything I am working on now. I want them to know it was me who did that, not that mysterious person they don’t believe they know. I think just being oneself is hard enough much less trying to be someone else, it’s a hard battle to both conform to what the world wants and simultaneously be something unique and special. Being me has its struggles, we all have that; I have learned as most of us do, to forget what others think and just be you. I am Michael; I can be fun, contrary, inquisitive, unrealistic, supportive, thoughtless, creative, and selfish. I am all of these things and so much more, good and bad. The goal is to be more good than bad, to be more than less; to try to make this life something that not only I am proud of and look back fondly on, but maybe just maybe, a life that will be remembered. I will not be Michelangelo and that is okay, he was awesome. I am Michael and that is great.

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Fame...Till The End

1/17/2016

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Bowie, the name is instantly recognizable and synonymous with artistry. In the interest of full disclosure, I am a big David Bowie fan; I have been since my younger days. If the radio started one of his songs, I would turn it up; it wasn’t a question of if. I spent my early music days listening to the radio and any jukebox I could find, dumping any quarters I had into them and if I saw David Bowie, it was on. In the time of the music video inception I was entranced like so many with certain artist and Bowie was there. If I had had the ability to have a large music collection I would have bought everything; it wasn’t till I was a little older till I was familiar with all of his work and my understanding of him as an artist grew enormously.

January 10th came as a blinding shock to me like most in the world when we heard the news of the loss of a musician, an artist, and just an extraordinarily good person. I seriously felt I wouldn’t know a day without him in the same world I live in. He just always seemed to be there for me, when I was down and one of his songs would come on and cheer me up instantly. When one of his music videos would come on and I would be transported into the absolutely fun, colorful, and creative world he envisioned. He continued his amazing career into movies, another love of mine, and gave us some memorable moments. I knew there were many reasons I loved him, his music, his art, his nature, and his love of books, something else I can understand. My odd nature and my wandering mind have always made me feel a bit of an outsider and he showed truly, what it meant to embrace the strangeness and show it was okay and even good to be different. Some may wonder or poo poo all the drama surrounding his death, but for me, in a world where we focus too much on terrible news I prefer to celebrate the amazing, the accomplished, the things that make us smile; Bowie always did that, still does that for me. I hope it is the same with everyone and maybe if you aren’t too familiar with, you will take time to get to know

I wanted to write something as soon as I could to pay a small tribute to an artist that I adore, but I had to wait a few days to collect my thoughts and to generally get over my melancholy. There have been some great articles, personal statements, emotional outpourings, and there will be some amazing tributes to come I hope; this is my small way to say thanks to someone I never knew personally, never met, and very unfortunate to have never seen in Bowie's natural environment, performing . There are so many people and events that form us and sometimes we don’t truly understand it until we are forced to recognize how much they meant to us; you don’t know what you’ve got till it’s gone, as the saying goes. The best laid plans fall apart sometimes, my plan was to finally get to see David Bowie when I first heard of his soon-to-be released release Blackstar. Excitement filled me like the days when I was very young; a life goal was going to be completed with this second chance to right a wrong in my life. A void in my being was going to be filled with this event, just one small wish that had been nagging at me for so long just below the surface, that I truly didn’t understand how important it was until it was taken from me just a week ago. The plan was to go by any means possible to accomplish this, important to me, task. I am just being selfish with my thoughts though; my true intent with this piece is to give an emotional thank you to David Bowie for a lifetime of beautiful art that I was blessed to experience for the better part of my life. I am thus inspired, I hope to emulate in some small way his example and maybe I will be putting out work until they day I pass into the firmament. For me he is immortal, I will always have his music and his example; he will join some others on my wall as constant inspiration. My heart is still heavy but I will play his music joyfully and be thankful.

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A Path Unkown

1/10/2016

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Anyone who reads me, which is almost everyone, uhum, knows that I love books and movies, which is why as I sit to write this post it makes me think of a line from a movie and a great book by the great JRR Tolken, The Lord of the Rings, “It’s a dangerous business, Frodo, going out your door. You step onto the road, and if you don’t keep your feet, there’s no knowing where you might be swept off to.” Now I doubt this journey is fraught with danger unless its carpel tunnel syndrome or near sightedness, but it is unknown but not unwelcome. Besides great quotes, random musings, and references of which there will be several, this post will have a purpose, several actually, which I will now get to.

I have written at length in various ways about the path, there is something deeply introspective about it and I have been told that is reflective of me. Some paths are clear and certain, others are as clear as a foggy October night in the bottomland of Kentucky, this is usually where I exist but the journey continues on. I encourage everyone to always be looking at your path, sometimes the direction taken while seemingly reasonable at first, may need recalibration at some point; stop, take a new bearing and realize you may have become lost or you may suddenly realize, you’re closer to your goal than previously understood, either way, how awesome. I know some who would question my path or that I have any understanding of it, but I say we don’t exist in a vacuum, no two circumstances are the same; we must be reminded that in order to understand another, we must first walk a mile in their shoes.

I have found that writing a book is much like life, some of it is planned and more often than not, the rest happens organically. Some of the best it seems is that organic part, because it can be so unexpected and surprising. I am at one of those points in life, a new look around, a recalibration, a journey down a path with a destination unknown, that last part bothers my control freak side. There are multiple paths I am traveling down at the moment, the path of designing and hopefully building a home, the path of being a published author, and the path of writing the other multiple stories competing for attention in my head. I think I have an interstate highway and not a path I’m traveling down and I’m looking for the emergency lane. I love my blogs, some more than others, but this one is special, this week I will announce the release date of my debut novel to world. It is an exciting time on a path I began a long time ago, one that I wasn’t sure where it would go or if it would ever go anywhere. I took a leap of faith towards something I wanted; craziness, desire, and persistence have led me to a life goal. I encourage all to find some part of their life that needs dusting off and be more like Frodo’s friend Sam, take that one step that will take you the furthest you have ever been away from home, do it with your eyes wide open and your heart full of joy, if not anxiety.

The unknown has a strange dichotomy of both allure and fear; we are both curious of what may come and hesitant that what we don’t know will not be good. The spice of life is partly derived from this. The sense of discovery is part of the joy of life; we crave new things even at the risk of setbacks and disappointment. For some this leads to confusion while others stride confidently at the fork in the road. I don’t fall into either category completely but I would say that the anxiety definitely takes hold at times. This is how I feel at the moment or maybe I have felt this way before, when I began this crazy process of getting a book, my book, out in print for the world to read, enjoy, trash, share, mock, reread, or possibly burn. I am staring down the rabbit hole and wondering where this journey will take me, like Luke Skywalker entering the cave in The Empire Strikes Back and he asked Yoda “What’s in there?” and Yoda replies “Only what you take with you.” I hope the latter isn’t true, I hope to take everyone with me on my journey and enjoy the adventure that is the story.

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The Face I See

1/3/2016

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I am a self-proclaimed strange person, this is according to my own observations of others observations of myself; yes, I agree mostly with this sentiment. Now here is where I divulge too much as usual. It is hard for me to focus sometimes, most of the time; my mind wanders and most of the time in too many directions all at the same time. It is a strange world that I have existed in for a long time. There are times I am able to focus on specific things, task, or thoughts for short periods. Those moments are fleeting and before I know it, they’re gone. I am easily distracted by the smallest stimulus that makes me take off like a rocket on some tangent. I seriously need a quiet room with bare walls and it might need to be padded. Don’t take me up on that last part.

One example of my strangeness, I see faces and figures in unusual places. This happens everywhere I go. I see them in the grain of wood, in wall paper patterns and other mundane things. I can just be looking at them without any intent of making a connection and it happens, I see a face that can be familiar or not, sometimes it relates to nothing but it makes sense. The more I stare, the more detail appears and a real life image of someone or something is there before me. And of course the next thing I do is imagine who they are, what their story is, or how they would fit perfectly into something I’m already working on. Some I can return to and see over and over, some come and go, lost forever to my imagination and I wonder how I ever saw them.

I have a complex understanding in my mind of everything around me, basically I understand that there is much we don’t understand even though we try; we assign meanings to everything, explanations to help us perceive what we see even if it’s completely wrong. We desperately need to know that everything fits neatly into a simple idea. I realize this is a fool’s desire; even it makes everything around me more uncertain. I have often wondered if I see a face in the grain of a piece of wood, is it a soul of someone who has come and gone. There are other fantastical ideas I’ve thought of, but I also understand that my brain may be making connections in patterns with no meaning, pure coincidence.

I imagine they are my adult imaginary friends. I take comfort in knowing that if you actually think you’re crazy, you probably aren’t crazy; hopefully. I am pretty certain I am not the only one who does this, maybe everyone does, if you don’t, try it out and see just how crazy you might be. I plan on taking advantage of this at some point in a creative way that makes sense. I hope to start cataloging the faces I see and maybe something will come of it. If my plans go as planned, 2016 will be an intensely creative year for me and I hope my quirkiness, like these faces, will help me reach my maximum potential for crazy. There is a fine line between genius and crazy, I am neither, but I will try to get as close to each of these as I can.

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There Is No Should

12/28/2015

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New Year’s Day is approaching and I have allocated precious little time to considering the age old tradition of making resolutions and then not following through on them. I am definitely a list person; I make them all the time. I fill up my list and somehow some things always end on my next list as well. Needless to say I don’t always complete my much needed or wanted activities, but without these lists I wouldn’t accomplish many tasks. I feel like the resolutions we make are much like these list; likewise, I feel like we get as much accomplished in pretty equal proportions.

First, we humans like to be able to start over and New Year’s Day offers everyone the chance, or at least the idea of a chance to start over again with a direction they would prefer; marvelous. Second, our language gives us so many opportunities to ponder everything we say and affect what we do in ways most don’t take the time to consider. Personally, I love to, on occasion, stop to consider a word I have used my entire life and try to understand what it truly means, how it came about, and revel in my discovery of meanings I have missed, that should have been so obvious that it usually makes me laugh at myself.

This brings me to considerations about resolutions and a thoughtful conversation I had with friends not too long ago. With these remarks now represented, we can discuss my conversation with a better understanding. Whilst having stimulating conversations about what I cannot now recall, but it may have had to deal with my plans, our plans, or some missed opportunity; the use of the word should was questioned in the course of a statement made and it was proposed that could would be the more appropriate expression. That was just the beginning of the very deep consideration of what we should or could do. If I remember correctly, and that could be questionable, I believe it was theorized that there is no should, only could; this was undoubtable followed with the ‘there is no spoon’ analogy, thanks to The Matrix. As a side note, this warmed my heart due to a movie reference being made, which for me is the modern day equivalent of sitting around listening to Plato grace us with mind blowing philosophy. This has now become a thing and a reminder between this small group of the simple yet freeing idea of how a simple statement gets turned on its head with a slight change. Anytime someone says should in a sentence, they are reminded that they could have instead; that has made all the difference.

Consider, if every time you say you should have, you change it to you could have; the opportunity produced is remarkably different. Should implies a missed chance meaning you chose wrongly, as your choice was a poor one which is likely not true; where could reminds us of the simple possibility of our choice, one not being more correct than the other. I often find myself saying I should have followed by any number of events, but now I catch myself more often, realizing that if I had said I could have, I understand the choice made, the prospect of a different outcome, and garner greater understanding of what life offers. The idea is far more liberating and positive in the could world, than the far more negative should world; we make decisions every second based on our needs, wants, and general convoluted logic that derives from our synapsis connections that may take strange paths. The next time you catch yourself reprimanding yourself with a should statement, try to retrain yourself to be a could person and see if your life changes for the better or at least you see the path more clearly; whether it is the one behind you or the one before you. Remember, there is no spoon…I mean should.

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A Long Time Ago...

12/20/2015

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There are special days and then there are special days. I can remember, sort of, way back when in 1977 and I was quite young, there was something that made an impression on me; Star Wars was released and wow, that was amazing. Am I right? For a young boy, who had his head in the clouds, it was something special. Little did I know it would be movies and books that would take over a large part of my brain in so many ways. Although we may not get that same feeling again, especially as adults, there is a chance that we may feel that old magic again. Star Wars: The Force Awakens opened this weekend and I am starting to feel like that little kid again.

The bad news is I can’t see it with anyone till this weekend; the good news is I believe this is heightening my anticipation even more, if it doesn’t kill me first. I look forward to being able to share the experience with someone who equally appreciates the story. We will return to our days of geekiness and revel in the fantasy that has been the basis of too many jokes and movie nights. I don’t mind seeing movies by myself and I will probably see this one by myself at some point but sharing it is far more satisfying. There are moments that are unspoken between friends seeing a movie but everyone knows instantly what they are and it’s awesome. I don’t plan on doing a review once I’ve seen the movie, there are already too many of them and I won’t color someone else experience any more.

I am doubly reminded of that time long ago because it’s Christmas time and a very fond memory came back to me. I was over at my grandparents’ house for the family gathering and I had a rather large package under the tree; let me say as a young boy seeing a large present is spine tingling. Once again I had to wait, wait for dinner to be fixed, wait for diner to be finished, and wait for the adults to finally settle down so we could open our presents. When the excruciating wait was over, I finally was given this enormous package and I opened it, my eyes lit up when I realized I now had my very own Star Wars Death Star set. Amazed and a little overwhelmed to have been given such a large and ultimately perfect gift, I reveled in my joy enthusiastically. The night only got better as my little Star Wars world expanded and I opened other, much smaller gifts, and added some of the familiar cast of characters to my new world; Darth Vader was probably my favorite if I remember correctly.

This trip down memory lane has been exciting and a little nerve racking with the anticipation of a movie everyone hopes will live up to those memories. There is some consolation here because I have some friends who have already seen the movie and say it was really good; I can breathe a little easier. In just a little over a week, I will get a chance for my big screen experience and see if the force has truly awakened. For all of those who have somehow avoided the Star Wars phenomenon, I suggest taking a moment, stepping outside of their box, and taking a chance on an experience that became an integral part of our culture. If I could share why, with all of those who don’t understand, how a simple movie helped a young boy, a generation, and the world, fall in love with stories that still hold our fascination in a way that makes us all young. There is still some magic in those scrolling words and that all too familiar music that lead us into the next chapter and simultaneously takes us back to a time most often forgotten. I believe I can safely say, the force is strong with this one.

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Oh Christmas Tree

12/13/2015

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It’s that time of year for many and I have been busy putting up my mother’s Christmas tree as I always do. It is quite the task from getting everything down from the attic, a place that acts more like the Room of Requirement from Harry Potter’s world. I only know what to get and where to get it because I am always to the one to take it down and put it back. As soon as Thanksgiving is over it’s a race, sort of, to get the decorations up before it feels like it’s too late and I will have to take it all down before I realize it; ugh. Ah, the holidays are so relaxing; I definitely have a lot of things I need to be doing with my spare time, my upcoming release in about two months and I’m behind as usual. Note to self, keep untangling the lights, you will get there.

I am really not having a Clark Griswold moment, but with everything on my mind I don’t feel like I’m being very efficient. I hold back the bah humbug because I know what this means to my mom and it does bring back so many memories from every year I can remember. When I was young I would put up my grandparents tree with my brothers and eventually it was just up to me to get it done. Their tree was simple, a basic artificial tree, with ornaments that were not glamorous to say the least; they were simple and sort of beat up really. I remember thinking, why did they keep these old, plain, plastic, and very unremarkable ornaments? I came to learn that some of them were very old and from a time in our nation’s history when nice things weren’t very available; between them living through the depression and two world wars, they didn’t have many fancy things. They lived till they were very old with these things that I couldn’t understand when I was very young; I do remember having a fondness for them in a strange curious way because they were unlike anything I was used to seeing. Every time I put up a tree I think of them and I wish I’d had the presence of mind to have kept them after they died; at least I still have the memories.

Now the next problem I have once the tree is done, I don’t have any gifts to place under it. That is a particular problem this year as the family has decided to draw names for gifts and reduce the carnage that was the gift for everyone marathon. Now we will have more time to spend with each other, but it has created a giftless tree. I have decided to get a few gifts anyway for my mother so she has the feeling of completeness that a Christmas tree has once it’s adorned with some mysteriously wrapped boxes. Now I must embark on the journey that is shopping for presents, a task I usually enjoy; the quest for finding that perfect gift. My mind will be preoccupied until I get something under the tree, the image of a bare Christmas tree is sad. I remember the excitement I had once a few presents would find their way under our family tree; the search for the name on the box and maybe a little shake to gauge what may hide inside. I won’t lie and say I have never lost the thrill of opening my own gifts but I will say that I cherish just as much the giving to ones I love, when I have found the best present for a particular person and their expression shows their true surprise and joy; I experience just as much joy myself.
I know I may not have the true meaning of the season some might say, but that doesn’t bother me because each person’s experience is unique unto themselves and this is mine. I celebrate the season in a way that conforms to my family; we gather a few times a year as a whole and the time is precious. We all cringe sometimes under things we have to do, obligations and such, but in truth after we get there the time goes by way too quick.

Some say putting up the Christmas tree a month ahead of time is too early, but for me it is just a wishful extension of that family time we wish would last longer. Every time you look at the brightly lit tree, those lights spark memories that flood back from last year to your earliest childhood days, when the possibility that the unknown would turn into your fondest wish. Those days have passed but still the tree acts like a clarion call for everyone to gather and the best gift of all is time shared and those memories are recounted over and over. No matter what object you use, a tree, a minora, an old kitchen table, or a tradition that is specific to you and yours, keep in your mind and your heart what it truly represents even if you don’t say it aloud. Sometimes for those who struggle with the speaking of emotion, these excuses, are the best solutions to conveying what is not often said. So complain, wail, and moan about this time of year and all of your obligations that get in the way of what you are usually doing; just remember that the things we are usually doing are what we are usually complaining about. So I say to you, bring out your decorations and scream bah humbug, because I will be watching closely for the smiles that creep across your face when you have a great new moment and when you are blessed to remember all of those from the past, with all of those who aren’t here anymore and those who still remain. Once again with feeling…’Oh Christmas Tree’.

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Jazz and Buddhism

12/6/2015

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You might ask me what do jazz and Buddhism have in common and I would say I’m not quite sure. But if I was truthful it may have more to do with me. I really don’t know too much about either, just enough to be dangerous or at least be able to fake an intelligent conversation. I am neither musically inclined nor religiously affiliated with the great Siddhartha. I am a fan of jazz for many reasons including how it relaxes me and it feels like pure genius; Buddhism has always intrigued me for one guiding principal, the quest for enlightenment by being a better person and only having a positive effect on yourself by only having a positive effect on everything around you.

So for me jazz is an artist’s way of making me feel good through music, kudos to the jazz musician for making me feel good. Now other types of music may have the same effect on others like jazz does for me and that is awesome; the route to my nirvana musically is jazz I would say. I think it’s important to find the things that have a positive effect in your life as much as possible; I find we discover this way too late. Writing is one of those things for me and there is some small part of me that hopes this is one way I can have a positive effect on others; I do realize it’s a little selfish of me all around, because I do enjoy it and I probably wouldn’t do it otherwise. As I have always said, it is hard for us humans to escape that paradox of selfishness because it has been absolutely key to our survival; without the hardwired survival instinct our species would have died out a long time ago. Therein lies the difficulty with selfless acts.

Recently I was fortunate enough to experience a real jazz club in New York City, at least as real as you can get considering it is not the hay day of jazz. The place was amazing for this small town boy who is sometimes out of place. I have reasons to be in the small town and the big city, the struggle between them can be epic. Maybe it was the good meal we had, the company I was in, the late hour that it was, the few drinks we had, or maybe it was the pure feeling of joy experienced listening to music that touches the soul; never-the-less, it was something I will always remember. The night got my brain going in strange tangents as usual and I pondered how great it would be for me to come back in my next life as a jazz pianist. I couldn’t think of anything better to happen to me; my path to enlightenment through playing jazz on the piano, ah nirvana. Now I don’t subscribe to this belief as I don’t believe anyone can truly know their path, but how awesome would that be? Once I die, weird I know, I expect everyone to be on the lookout for my reincarnated self moonlighting as a jazz pianist.

Introspection, philosophy, the path to enlightenment, no matter the means I consider it a good thing. To know oneself and our impact on everything and everyone around us is fundamental to being better, no matter what that means. Jazz for me is a little philosophy, there is no way an artist can create something so wonderful without sharing some good part of themselves with all who hear them. Experiencing that for me was the simplest reminder to try every day to be better, somehow, someway; for me, for others, the effort is needed moment to moment in the world today. I wander from day to day, experience to experience, searching for something, often latching onto anything that makes me smile in any way possible; I find it necessary, we all should. I know we are animals, we are selfish to our very core, the trick is to recognize this and do everything possible to not act like it; with any luck we will experience the good and so will everyone else. So go and find your muse and may it be positive; the worst case scenario you will smile and someone else will see you smile…and it will spread.

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These Unfamiliar Streets

11/22/2015

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As I look around I find myself somewhere, I’m not exactly sure where and that was the plan. The breeze hits my face and I pull my jacket close as the November air wraps around me; the shadow of the skyscraper I stand in reminds me that I know the city I’m in, but that’s all. I’m somewhere in New York City, Manhattan, and I have been wandering all day, all week. After days of traveling without much direction I have come to know the city in a strange way. The maze that is Manhattan has shown itself to me and I almost feel like I belong. The sidewalks begin to make sense in such a way that I forget they are there, I am no longer unsure of my footing, that feeling when one is lost. Now I walk with confidence to a destination unknown but now not so unfamiliar.

I find myself in a corner café for several reasons; I need a seat to rest, some food to eat, tea to drink, and a place to watch all that we miss when we are moving too fast. Even in such a short time I see so much in this small corner of the world that I would not have seen back home. How utterly immersed I am in the people that walk by and the lives I imagine they live. My lunch time is something special sitting here, I will never be here again I am sure, my food is good and the interesting people I watch keep me company without the trouble of forced conversation. This short respite from the cool weather and the chance to collect my thoughts makes me eager to continue my journey to somewhere.

The places I seek are the usual haunts for me, small cafes, bookstores, and places that speak so loudly when you see them they block everything else out. One establishment was so perfect for me I fail to understand how I found it, a store that was crammed full of books and records. There wasn’t an inch of space that wasn’t occupied by some hidden gem. It was as if the walls were made of these items; no more perfect set could have been designed for a Hollywood movie. Of course I found a special item that I couldn’t resist, too bad I wasn’t keeping this one for myself; this would be a special thank you for my friends that were boarding me on this extraordinary adventure. I hope they enjoy it as much as I enjoyed finding it. From the subway in the mornings, to the places that inspire me, and finally to the famous eateries where I can cap the day off with my favorite indulgence…great food, atmosphere, and the best company I could possibly imagine. It’s a chance to look back on another day like no other and revel in something fantastic. My last night was such a night, the day had been one more surprise after another, finishing off with a relaxing meal and stretching one day into the next in a small jazz club. Here the music did most of the talking as we sat back and enjoyed.

I feel lucky in so many ways to have been able to experience all that I have on this trip. It was simultaneously exciting and exhausting but I wouldn’t trade it for anything. I had no real plans going into this journey other than some general desires; I have found that this works best. I took my time to find my way, to let the place guide me and in doing so I experienced something special. The streets became so much more to me than a way to get here or there, they became a place that spoke to me; at first I didn’t know what they were saying, but eventually I understood they were telling me everything, everything about the places I was visiting, the people I encountered, and the feeling of what it was like to actually understand the place for what it was…just another piece of me now.

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Vacation Books

11/8/2015

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As I post this I am officially on vacation. Can I get a hell yeah? It has been some time since I had more than two to three days off in succession. I believe it is much deserved and needed. The only work I will be doing is some much needed writing and details to do in preparation for my release, but that is not exactly work really, because I’m so excited for it to happen. Ah, ten days, of relaxation and new experiences.

My packing list was something I worked on for a couple of weeks; I know I’m obsessed. The first item listed is a book. I always take a book when I go for short visits with family or friends, but also when I go on one of my few major excursions to interesting places. Even though I will be living it up in New York City this time, I still find a need to have a book handy; just for those times I need to settle down and live someone else’s dreams. Whether it’s in the airport, on the plane, or when I am finally settling down for the night, sometimes it’s the best night cap. There was no particular book listed and that is the only problem; I have too many books I want to read. I had to prioritize somehow, but it came down to my selfish inner desire. I have two new author friends, I say that loosely because I know them and they know me, but I bought their books because I was interested. When it came down to it they were the two I wanted to take with me. I know what you are thinking, two books; yes I actually packed two books. I can’t wait to unleash my famed criticism; actually it’s hard to criticize for me because I admire these authors so much for what they do and they inspire me. Books are like art, they are all different and beautiful. My hat is off to them for taking me to some place new. Thank you.

The second aspect of my vacation, other than a book or two I may take with me, is my other indulgence I can’t ever resist; when I’m on vacation it is inevitable I will buy a book. It’s a mission, my quest, and something I try to resist but fail at in spectacular fashion. I will roam the wonderful rows of bookshelves in several bookstores if possible, looking for the book I will buy. This is very hard because I can’t buy all the books I want. Eventually one will speak to me and I will succumb. A couple of years ago I tried a new approach; I randomly selected a book by pointing my finger and waving it around until I settled on a book and touched it. I was dubious about this approach, but the first time I did it I landed on a book about would be writers who had to write something in a competition to meet one of the great writers of the day. Can you say kismet? The book was just slightly more than perfect for my choice by chance. Or was it by chance? Whatever the case may be, it was perfect and a very good read; thank you fate.

In the next several days I will be on my hunt for the next book to lie in my pile; I can actually report I have two new books…wow. Maybe it will be lucky enough to get bumped in line up to be read, sooner rather than later. I’m a geek, I guess because this is fun for me. I blame it on Dr. Seuss, The Outsiders, Salem’s Lot, and many others. I wonder if I’m the only person afflicted by vacation books. I doubt it and I hope not. This vacation may become disastrous in a good way because it is early and I have a few more book stores to explore. Wish me luck; I may need to add another bookcase to my future library. If you are not a happy victim of vacation books, be warned, you may become addicted to its greatness.

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